Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkmenistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hasil Adkins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alphaville,
Model 500,
Amon Düül,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick May,
Deepchord,
Soft Machine,
Motorama,
Althea and Donna,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
Scientists,
Bob Dylan,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Neu!,
Half Japanese,
Underground Resistance,
Minny Pops,
Vladislav Delay,
Scan 7,
Quadrant,
Joey Negro,
Tubeway Army,
the Bar-Kays,
Gichy Dan,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Archie Shepp,
a-ha,
Q65,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Jawbox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors,
New Age Steppers,
Aswad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kaleidoscope,
Q and Not U,
The Shadows of Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.